


They Always Leave

by canthelpmyselves



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Betrayal, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Bruce Banner, Past Relationship(s), Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Bruce has become accustomed to being left behind.





	They Always Leave

He stared, blank-eyed, at the dirty, shadowy wall as he waited for the pain to fade to a manageable level. No sound passed his tightly clamped lips, having learned years before that gasps, moans or sobs only led to more pain. Heavy footsteps crossed the room and a beam of light fell over him as the door opened. Only once the door closed again and he was alone, did he allow his eyes to close and his hands drag the thin blanket up over his shivering body. There was a faint thought in the back of his head that he really should clean away any blood before he fell asleep, because later it would be painful to pull away the material if it became stuck to his back, but he was too exhausted to do so. He would just deal with the brief pain when he woke up.

And if his nightmares were filled with curses and pleas and sharp, burning pains that left him breathless and begging for death, well, he was used to it by now. He hardly ever woke up screaming anymore.

===A===

He stared at the retrieved footage and felt his heart shatter. This was fake. Or a mistake. Maybe she had been forced…

He took in a couple of shaky, shallow breaths and rewound the tape. He pressed play again and watched for the eleventh time. He watched as she picked up then discarded three vials before finding the one she needed. Twice, she withdrew several ccs of the serum and injected it into the container of already carefully measured serum that was waiting to be injected into the test subject. 

Into him. 

For a moment he wondered if it were actually possible for the human heart to break in two. His chest felt so tight. His lungs felt so empty. His stomach churned and rolled as if trying to tie itself into knots. 

For four years he had operated on the firm belief that what had happened was his fault. Some miscalculation on his part. Some hubris that was his undoing. Or maybe it was just a common, ordinary accident. A malfunction in the machinery. A crossed wire. A loose bolt. When he did (rarely, guiltily, angrily) consider sabotage, his mind went immediately to a Ross, but to the General, not Betty. Not the woman he loved. The woman he trusted. The woman he gave his entire heart and soul to.

The woman who had pushed him to head the team. The woman who never complained, but seemed so supportive and understanding when he would get lost in his formulas. The woman who encouraged him to keep going, no matter how much her father hated him. 

The woman who made him the monster he is today.

===A===

Pain. 

The smell of copper.

Anger.

Hunger.

Tears freezing into icy shards on his cheeks.

Bruce slowly took note of everything he was feeling as he looked around the demolished landscape with tired eyes. Snow continued to fall, coating him in a chilly blanket. There were shattered tree trunks laying all around the clearing that, until a few hours ago, hadn’t been a clearing at all, but a densely wooded forest. There was a frozen puddle of blood several feet away, a bent and twisted handgun beside it. Enormous footprints had trampled down the older snow, and in a few places, left deep divots. He shuddered and closed his eyes as he took a few deep breaths.

Why? Why would the Other Guy do this? Why would the Other Guy force them to stay alive? Hadn’t they suffered enough? Hadn’t they hurt enough people? He just wanted it to end. He wanted to rest. To not feel so helpless and weak anymore. He was tired of running. He was tired of being feared. He was tired of the hate and pain and nightmares and anger. He just wanted it to end. 

But that wasn’t possible, it seemed. the Other Guy wasn’t going to let him take the easy way out. The Other Guy was going to keep him going, keep him suffering, keep him here, in his own personal hell.

===A===

He tiredly turned from the door and walked steadily to the elevator. He stepped inside and gave the AI his destination. He watched calmly as Tony rushed across the penthouse, one hand dragging pajamas up his hips and the other dragging through his hair. Through the open bedroom door he could see Steve blushing and hurriedly wrapping the sheet around his hips. He supposed he should feel angry. Maybe jealous. Or at least sad. Instead he just felt resigned. 

He had known going into this that Tony had a reputation. Philanthropic, genius, billionaire, playboy. Faithful wasn’t a word anyone had ever associated with the engineer. Still, he had grown comfortable with their developing relationship over the past few months and begun to drop his guard a bit more. 

That wasn’t Tony’s fault, though. It was his. He knew better. He knew not to let emotions take root. It was sex. It was only ever supposed to be sex. He was a new experience, and Tony Stark loved new experiences. Bedding the man that could abruptly shift and crush him like a bug was exhilarating to a man who thrived on doing the impossible. Of course he would also want to fuck Captain America, national icon. He snidely wondered if Tony had slept with any others on the team. Did he have the complete set, now?

The elevator stopped at the lobby and Bruce stepped out. He nodded to a few of the SI employees he knew on sight and walked out into the New York heat. He paused long enough to breath in the stale air before turning left and winding his way through the crowded sidewalk. 

===A===

It had taken years to get to this point. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it wasn’t fair. No. There was no maybe about it. He had been selfish and he had been unfair. It had been beyond his ability to control, though. 

All his life he had watched as everyone he trusted, everyone he loved, betrayed him in some form or another. A father who beat him for being intelligent. Classmates who tormented him until building a bomb seemed like a good idea. Lovers who broke pieces of his soul and did it with a shrug and a smile. Teammates who watched him with wary eyes, never fully trusting him. His own alter ego had enjoyed his suffering almost as much as it enjoyed smashing their enemies.

Then there was Phil Coulson. Agent. Handler. Director of SHIELD. 

It was while Phil was tracking down a Hive lead that they ran into one another in a dirty little village near Cambodia. It was a bit of a shock for both men. Bruce had been under the impression the agent was dead, while Phil had been told Bruce was with the Avengers. Over a paltry meal of weak stew and dry bread (all Bruce had to offer in his little hut) Bruce calmly explained why he had left New York and Phil explained the secrecy around his resurrection.

When the food was gone and the sun was set, Phil turned to Bruce and asked if he was content. Not happy. Not safe. Content. Bruce admitted he wasn’t and Phil silently packed his clothes for him. Two days later, Bruce was the newest member of Coulson’s team. For a year, Bruce worked in the SHIELD labs alongside Bobbi and Fitz. He trained with Melinda and Daisy. He studied everything Phil gave him and they met once a week to go over anything he had questions on or suggests for. He even went on a few missions, one of which placed him in the company of the Avengers for a few days as they dealt with Ultron. 

Seeing Clint and Thor again was nice enough. Both men greeted him with smiles and demands to know what he had been doing. Natasha was a bit standoffish, but he suspected that had more to do with the company he was in. Bobbi had told him, going in, that there was bad blood between the two women. Steve couldn’t look at him. He barely spoke beyond a hello. Tony, though…

Tony did everything but wrap himself around Bruce to try and get him to talk. He told Bruce he was sorry. He asked Bruce to come back. He offered new equipment. A new lab. A floor of his own. He promised fidelity. He swore he had been heartbroken since Bruce had left two years earlier. Bruce cringed at the pitying looks from his current and former teammates as Tony made things more and more uncomfortable as the day wore on.

Then Phil stepped in, stunning everyone (including Bruce) by wrapping an arm around his waist and telling Tony, in no uncertain manner, that Bruce was spoken for. Phil even went so far as to share a bed with Bruce during their stay, although it was completely platonic. When Bruce asked, voice barely above a whisper in the darkness, why he had done it, Phil had sighed softly and turned to look at him.

“Because I’ve been where you are,” he answered. “I know all about betrayal and the damage it can leave.” He didn’t say anything else, but Bruce thought hard on those words for weeks after. 

Slowly, Bruce found himself beginning to trust again. Not everyone, and not all the time, but on occasion, he found himself placing his fragile trust in the man with the bland smile and careful eyes. 

They were on another mission, not long after the battle with Thanos, when Phil was hurt. He had been shot twice, once in the thigh and once in the hip. Unable to get to the extraction point, Bruce had to hide them in a warehouse and field dress the wounds while they waited for a second attempt at extraction. He was growing more and more worried about Phil’s blood loss when the other man sighed and grabbed Bruce’s shoulder. He tugged with more strength than Bruce imagined he would have, and pulled Bruce right up against him and pressed their lips together.

“If I’m going to die, I’m not missing out on that,” he said before passing out.

Hunter and Melinda got them out and Phil was unconscious for 34 hours. Bruce sat by his bed the entire time. The moment Phil opened his eyes, Bruce leaned over him and kissed him warmly.

Phil stared at Bruce for several seconds, a soft smile on his face, before speaking. “If that’s the welcome I get every time, I’m liable to throw myself in front of a lot more bullets.”

Bruce had shyly laughed and shook his head. “If you don’t get shot again, I’ll let you have as many kisses as you want,” he counter offered.

They moved slowly, Phil seeming to understand Bruce’s fears. They went on weekly (when they could) dates for several months, sharing nothing more than a few kisses. Six months in, Bruce carefully pushed for more and they became a bit more intimate. They slept together, but they weren’t sexually active beyond a few heavy make-out sessions. Bruce kept waiting for Phil to get frustrated and end things, but Phil’s patience was boundless. They had been living and sleeping together for four months before Bruce felt confident enough to step past his boundaries. 

It had been three and a half years since he last experienced that kind of intimacy. Phil was gentle, almost methodical, in his lovemaking. He built Bruce up slowly with lingering touches, gentle kisses and heated words. Phil was quietly vocal during sex. Whispered endearments. Soft moans. Silken praises. Bruce was helpless against the gentle outpouring of Phil’s passion, and he loved it. 

One of the things Bruce loved most about Phil, was that there were no promises. No swearing of fidelity. No dedication of heart and soul. Phil didn’t offer him forever and he made no demands for commitment. It was as if he knew, instinctively, that Bruce was incapable of believing those things. He simply stayed by Bruce’s side. He never wavered. He never strayed. He never brought attention to those things, either.

They were just there, for Bruce to acknowledge, or to ignore, as he was able.

===

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

Bruce lifted his head and looked at his lover solemnly. “I don’t want you to go, either,” he whispered back.

Phil smiled faintly and inhaled shakily. “Not the same thing, honey.”

Bruce shrugged one shoulder and laid his head back down on Phil’s chest. “It is to me,” he countered. “You’re the only one who ever stayed. The only one who ever made me feel truly loved.”

“I do love you,” Phil replied. His mechanical hand lightly stroking Bruce’s back. “But I’m not going to be here much longer. I don’t want you to suffer. I want you to stay with SHIELD, if you think you can.”

Bruce bit back a sob and closed his eyes tight. Nine years wasn’t enough. Nine years in the span of sixty-four years was nothing. Now his lover, his friend, his everything, was dying from the very thing that once gave him back his life.

“I won’t go anywhere as long as they need me,” he said haltingly. 

Phil’s chest rose and fell in a silent chuckle. “Skye and Hunter will always need you,” he pointed out. “So will Rosalie and Abe.”

Bruce gave a slight smile at the thought of Clint’s daughter and Lady Sif’s son, two of the brightest SHIELD agents. Lady Sif had been very proud of Abelon for his dedication to Midgard. It had been quite the battle with Clint to get him to agree to let his ‘little girl’ become an agent. It was only because Bruce and Phil had promised to personally watch over her that he relented. Over the two years since they began their training, they had become two of the best the agency had to offer, making everyone proud.

“Honey,” Phil began, his voice heavy with worry, “have you thought anymore about Rogers?”

Bruce fought not to tense up, but it wasn’t easy. Six years ago he had reached the conclusion that the serum that made him the Hulk, also slowed down his aging by a considerable rate. Even though he was closing in on sixty by then, he still looked forty. While running his tests, he had reluctantly approached Bucky Barnes and Rogers for blood samples. Tests on all three of them were conclusive. The super soldier serum had given all three men extended lives. 

Three months ago, Rogers had contacted him and asked to meet. Clint had retired a year earlier and needed a live-in nurse. Natasha had been killed on a mission two years before that. Tony had finally succumbed to the Extremis in his body and passed away a few months earlier. Thor had given up his superhero duties five years ago and now spent his time reigning in Asgard. The Avengers had new members, all of them were about a third of Bruce’s age. Steve found himself in the middle of an immense emotional crisis because he had realized he was going to outlive everyone he knew except Bucky and Bruce. He had reached out because he didn’t want to go through that alone. 

“I don’t blame him for what happened,” Bruce admitted softly. “I never even blamed Tony, honestly. It was what it was. But I also don’t feel an obligation just because we both will live a long time.”

Phil nodding, accepting Bruce’s decision just as he always had. “I wish you had a better support system,” he admitted.

Bruce kissed his chest and smiled. “I have Abe and Rosalie and Bobbi and Daisy and Hunter. Logan contacted me about two kids named Laura and Gideon. He says they’re clones and need protection and training.”

“Do you think SHIELD can help them?”

Bruce nodded. “I think I can. I think Daisy can, too.”

Phil slumped back against the pillows and sighed softly. “I love you, Bruce Banner.”

Bruce closed his eyes tight and rubbed his cheek against Phil. “I love you, too, Phil Coulson.”

Silent tears spilled down his cheeks and soaked into the cotton gown. Distantly he heard the steady, unbroken buzz of the monitor across the room. When the nurses and doctors flooded the room, he allowed himself to be pulled back to a chair, where he slumped bonelessly.

Eventually soft hands tugged him to his feet and led him from the room. They walked for what felt like forever, but more than likely was only a couple of minutes, before he was guided into a car. Someone buckled him in and he laid his head back.

He would take a few days to himself. He would lie in their bed and stare at their walls while he waited for his heart to resume beating at an even keel. Then he would get up and carry on. 

Just like he had all his life.

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I can ship Bruce with just about any of the men from the MCU (except Fury). I'm not so good at shipping him with most of the women, except Valkyrie. However, there's something very special, in my mind, about him and Coulson. Maybe because I see Phil as so steady and supportive, which is something Bruce deserves.


End file.
